Human
by eleventeenfifty
Summary: Being part of the human race is both the most precious blessing and the worst curse a person can have. On one hand, you get to experience such compassion and freedoms that no other species has known before; on the other hand, well, you're only human. So what's it like to befriend someone who's not? This is my first Doctor Who fic, so all ideas and things are super welcome!
1. Chapter 1

"I'm only human, you can't expect me to be perfect all the time!" she yells, but it's apparent that she's not angry.

He's silent for a moment. He looks like he's going to explode with everything that he could be saying but isn't and she's honestly scared. "You're right." The want to make things right disappears from her face and it's just sadness and disappointment and the embodied look of feeling worthless. "You're right. You're only human. Well," he takes a deep breath. "Since you're 'only human,' I might as well take you home then, yeah?" And still he hasn't said any of the things he wanted to. He's just given up and he doesn't do that. He doesn't just let things go.

"If you want," her voice is small but it's there and it's shaking. She tries to blink away the fact that he's really truly done putting up with her, that he can't stand being around her and that the very presence of her frustrates him to no end. "Yeah," she nods as the only proof of her internal dialogues slides down her cheek. "That might be best. Because you'll have a nicer, prettier girl here in no time who won't ruin everything for you and I'll go back to normal, right? You can run away with somebody who doesn't make you angry just by existing and I'll inhabit my mother's couch for a couple more months. She won't mind, I think."

He opens his mouth like he's going to say something but what can you say to that? "Great." And he doesn't know why he says that but it seems like the most dramatic thing and it works.

She looks at him and she wants him to look back and she wills him to with every fiber of her being because she doesn't want to be some lame movie-goer with an mildly unpopular blog anymore. She doesn't want to go to the grocery store every Thursday just because that's what you're supposed to do or do chores when she hears somebody is planning on visiting in a month. She doesn't want to pretend she hasn't had the most amazing time and that she hasn't seen the death of Earth and the birth of a star and all of the wonderful things she's seen and done because of him. She doesn't want to be normal anymore, because of him.

* * *

><p><strong>Twelve years earlier<strong>

She watched the lights and the shadows fall on her bedroom wall from headlights and wondered about the people controlling them, hoping they'd stop at her house. They never did. She would stare at her wall every night, willing a car to stop and come rescue her as she listened to the sounds of her parents arguing and things and fists being thrown. Every six year old girl dreams about her prince charming, except her. As much as she wanted to slip away into a world of her own whenever she closed her eyes, she couldn't. Blinking was blinking and sleeping was sleeping and nothing changed. She was still stuck in the same place.

She knew by then that she would always be stuck in that same place. There would be no sweet escape for her. No fairy tail romance to take her away from all the nonsense that reality was for her. Reality for her was violent and rude and unavoidable and she was only six.

She lay in her bed breathing deeply, watching the cars pass and waiting for something to happen. And then it did.

A noise she'd never heard before scraped against the confines of her walls so that it was a deafening roar and somehow went unheard by the couple just outside her door in the sitting room. A large blue _thing_ faded its way into her room and a man in a suit poked his head out the door. He saw her and smiled, doing a little wave as he stepped outside of his weird little box.

"Hello there," he said. "I'm the Doctor." She stared at him with wide eyes, seeming relatively afraid and somewhat angry. "Well, this can't be right. You're a little young. What's your name?"

It took her a few seconds to process that she was being asked a question, but she answered eventually. "It's CJ," she uttered quietly, shifting in her place.

He looked frustrated for a moment before giving her a slight wave and telling her he'd be back in a couple of years, hoping to avoid having to explain why.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **This is my first Who fic and I'm relatively new to the fandom (I'm all caught up but only started watching the new series a few months ago) so if this really sucks, I'm super sorry. I'd love some constructive criticism though, if you've got any. Thanks for reading sweeties!


	2. Chapter 2

She smiled goofily as she listened to the mix of her friends talking and her favorite music playing. Her friends were loud and could be rather violent, but she was used to that. A girl wearing tight pants and a low self esteem slung herself around her shoulders and joined their conversation and gladly accepted the small roll of paper and other not-to-be-named substances that was being passed around. The room was a cloud of smoke and no person who wasn't accustomed to it would feel okay being there, but of course none of them minded.

It had been three years since her father passed away and of course she was upset, but she felt free for the first time and she was going to take advantage of that. She had grown weary of feeling sorry for herself and she sure as hell didn't want anyone else pitying her, so she did what any normal person would do. She moved on. She was tired of waiting for something to happen to make all her troubles disappear. She was tired of wanting everything and having nothing. She was tired of being tired.

And, of course, as soon as she stopped waiting, something did happen.

A girl with wide eyes came in unannounced, seeming genuinely worried and at the same time very, very calm. "CJ, babe, some suit's out there looking for you."

The crowd reacted like a bunch of third graders when their friend gets called down to the office, responding with a collective, "Ooh, you're in trouble."

A man entered the foggy room, peering around for one girl in particular. He knocked on the door frame to announce his presence and coughed loudly when he tried to breathe. Looking around, he had a very strange expression. It was a mix of concern, curiosity and anger and nobody really was sure why.

"I'm looking for Crystal Jackman," he called.

She raised her hand and looked the man up and down. She noted every detail about him, grinning cutely. "You stayed pretty."

"Well, you certainly grew up," he remarked, making a face.

"You're not going to introduce yourself then leave again, are you?" she joked, smiling at him.

He looked around again for a moment before talking again, "What are you doing here?" He couldn't imagine that the little girl he'd just seen would be in a place like this, dirty and smelling of smoke and gasoline.

"Picking some daisies," she said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Anyways, _Doctor, _didn't you promise me some adventuring?"

* * *

><p>She stepped into the little blue box, the smile dropping from her face. "The hell?" She backed out, glancing around the outside. "It's," she began.<p>

"Bigger on the inside, I know," he grinned.

She walked all the way around it before he called her back inside, asking her where she wanted to go first. She smiled, thinking. "Surprise me."


End file.
